Lovely Witches
by dearcst
Summary: Dean and Castiel get cursed by a witch to constantly desire each other, and not that Sam's not happy about them finally resolving all that sexual tension, he'd just wish they'd do it behind closed doors. Just saying.


_AN: Warnings include intense making out, implied sex, and dropping the F-Bomb a few times along with other curse words. Hope you like it!_

_Lovely Witches_

"I friggin' hate witches" might as well be the motto for the week.

The entire case was just screaming _witch_ from the second they'd found it, but Dean was still denying it at least until they saw a hex bag, (which was under the sink in the secretary's office.) Three of the CEO's employees were found dead in crazy ways like having their bones crumble inside their body except for their ribcage where the bones pierced the heart. Yeah, looking back at it, Dean laughed at himself that he'd even denied it in the first place.

Sam was searching for more evidence and examining the hex bag they'd just found. Castiel was also there, merely because of the reason that Sam needed him to idenify an object in the hexbag that wasn't in any of the books. (A couple pages of information was later written and taped into the back of the book.) Castiel looked over Sam's shoulder as the younger Winchester tapped away on his laptop.

"Well the obvious answer would be that the CEO's doing this," Sam voiced.

"We already questioned him her," Dean reminded, "She was clean."

Sam shrugged. "'Dunno who else is doing this then. Maybe we missed something."

At that time, Dean looked up to glance at Castiel to find the angel's gaze already firmly set on him. Every instinct urging Dean not to look away, yet to avert his eyes at the same time, something thick filled the immense space between the two. Dean's eyes flickered down to Castiel's lips and back up to his eyes.

"Dean?" Sam called, voice clouded with something Dean couldn't quite idenify.

He shook himself. "Yeah, what?"

"I asked if you wanted to go back after closing."

Dean raised his beer to his lips and took a quick sip. "Yeah," he mumbled, "Sure. Sounds like a plan. You comin', Cas?"

Their eyes met again and Dean's heart stuttered before Castiel nodded and said, "Of course."

Dean stood gracelessly, downed the last of his beer, and set the bottle down loudly on the counter top. He probably slurred something about going to ward something, research, who the hell knows? He might have been a little tipsy after his second beer, but they had another three hours before they had to leave. And if he took a short nap with blue eyes littered in his subconscious, well, no one could blame him with the damn looks that man gave him.

Dean woke when Sam threw a bag onto his stomach.

"Get up, Sleeping Beauty. What happened to cleaning the guns?"

Ah, so _that_ was the excuse he made to leave. "Didn't feel like it 'nymore," Dean muttered, dragging a hand down his face and pulling himself out of bed. He vaguely wished it was memory foam. Seriously, he could write a good three-thousand words on how much he loved memory foam.

They were all packed up and ready to go in another ten minutes and Dean started up the engine. The seats felt like home; Dean would have smiled if he had the strength to anymore. He shook his head and pulled out. He hardly registered his hand when it turned on the radio. Between the bunker and this car, it was a dead to to tell which one was truly home. Baby had always been there, this symbol of whoever he and Sammy were, ever could be- but it lacked beds which everyone declared as somewhere home was.

He was thinking too much into it, so Dean turned the music up a few notches. (But they arrived a few minutes later, so it didn't really mean much.)

The building was dark except for a light in a few windows, and if Dean were good at knowing the room by merely seeing the outside of the building, he would have been able to see that the rooms lit were the CEO's office and a few of his employees.

The trunk slammed shut to knock Dean out of yet another trance. He should probably stop drinking before a case (haha, no he shouldn't.) Sam was already on the way to the door, and Castiel followed closely behind him beside Dean. Their hands felt millimeters apart (probably were, but Dean didn't glance down to look,) and there was this electricity pulling them closer together, but it isn't like that's anything new. There's always been this strange gravitation pull that Cas had that was just purely for Dean. Dean assumed it was just an angel thing. All angels must be this enchanting, (if they weren't, why would people call their lovers "angel?")

It was mindless, entering the building without activating any alarms; it's not as if it's something they haven't done a million times. The rooms lit were all on the third floor, so the three made their way up the stairs as quickly as they could. Voices were hushed whispers by the time they reached the top.

"Stealing?" someone demanded in a yell-whisper. "Monica?"

"I saw her with Randy last, and I swear she just looks the kill-crazy type!"

Dean pressed closely behind the wall to listen and Sam and Castiel did the same as if an echo effect.

"I swear, I came in late last night to get my flash drive and I saw her and Randy get into an argument. I think they were sleeping together or something, but Randy has a wife, you know? Lena's a lovely lady, I can't believe he'd cheat on her! She cooks him dinner every night, and the woman can _really_ cook. I had her chicken pot pie last December-"

"What does this have to do with Monica?"

Their voices were hardly whispers now, and heels were heard coming towards them. Of course the Hunters' senses were trained enough to pick it up, but the disembodied voices couldn't.

"Well, I was getting to that! Wait a second or two! I swear, you never listen to a word I say," the voice sighed, "Anyways, Monica and Randy got into this argument, started yelling and everything and- You know I never knew Monica knew Spanish!"

"Tabitha, seriously, what does-"

"No, you see, she started yelling at him in Spanish, and then _nothing_. It got real quiet-like, and Monica just left!"

"It's _Latin_," a new voice announced herself and the heel-clicking stopped. "Idiots."

Dean took that as his cue to jump in, gun aimed and safety clicked off. "Drop it!" he yelled, motioning for her to drop the hex bag in her hand.

The other two voices (that now had faces) yelped and pushed themselves to the other side of the room.

"Agent Reynolds, how nice to see you," the witch grinned a toothy grin.

Castiel and Sam showed themselves behind him, obviously outnumbering her. Her smile dropped and she let go of the hex bag in her hand. Just before Dean could pull the trigger, however, Monica uttered a string of words and turned to flee. A cloud of colored dust hit Dean in the face, and Sam fired a shot that hit Monica's shoulder. Sam turned in feirce concern to his brother whose eyes were hazy.

"Dean? Dean!" Sam shouted, dropping his gun.

"They're fucking crazy!" the empoyees screeched and used the opportunity to run.

Dean's eyes seemed to clear just the slightest, muscles tense as if ready to attack; he grabbed Castiel by the coat and threw him against the wall.

"Dean! Stop!" Sam shouted and ran to get Dean off of Castiel if not for-

Dean pulled Castiel's tie and smashed their lips together violently. Castiel was rigged and stiff under him, but that didn't hinder Dean at all. He kissed Castiel as if his life depended on it (and maybe it did?), breathing deeply against the other's lips. His hands fisted in Castiel's trenchcoat and Castiel slowly started to return the kiss. In another mere two seconds, they were going at each other like no one was watching. Gasping, desperate, passionate, _everything_.

"U-Um- Guys-" Sam interrupted awkwardly.

Castiel let out a soft, feeble moan before Dean pulled himself off of him. His eyes were hardly clearer, pupils large in his eyes. His eyes pratically stripped Castiel down in front of him.

"The witch- Yeah- She got away," Sam stumbled over his words. "What did she..." Sam trailed off again as Dean resumed kissing Cas like they'd somehow teleported to another room with no onlookers. Or maybe they just didn't care who was watching. Either way it was going to be a long drive back to the motel.

* * *

Sam ended up driving since Castiel and Dean could hardly keep their hands off each other for two seconds. And you know, Sam could have probably seen this coming for a while now, and he was friggin' delighted they're finally resolving this sexual tension, but if they could do it behind closed doors, yeah that'd be great.

They got to the motel and Sam got another room just in case because there are some parts of his brother he'd really love not to see. He left them alone in the backseat since they obviously weren't coming out any time soon, left the room keys on the dashboard, and pratically ran to his room.

Dean and Castiel did get out of the car, hair ruffled, shirts untucked, and found Sam in his room half an hour later. They were both blushing and shifting nervously, like Sam cared at all if they just did it in the back seat (okay, maybe a little,) but it's not a huge deal.

"Yeah- Uh- Sorry about-"

"You guys aren't going to start having sex any second now right?"

Dean groaned, "No! It just- I don't know! Like it was _really_ strong at first, but it's fading. We're all right."

"So it's gone?"

"No," Dean said quickly, looking like he wanted to laugh, "It's _definitely_ still there, but I just, like before I couldn't help myself, but I have a little control now."

There was a beat of silence before Sam clarified, "So a spell did this."

Dean blinked once. "What else would?"

_How about you guys eye-fucking all the time,_ Sam didn't say. He decided just to flip another page in his book about love enchantments. They were all searching books and the internet for anything that could be useful in counteracting the curse, and Sam decided not to comment on Castiel choosing to sit a bit closer to Dean than he used to.

"I vote for just killing the bitch," Dean declared after an hour of nothing.

"Yeah, great idea, except we have no idea where she went," Sam said without even looking up.

(Speaking of looking, Castiel hadn't taken his eyes from Dean's for a good twenty minutes now.)

"Dean," Castiel leaned over to his dearly bewitched. "I want to kiss you again."

"Guys, I'm right- here- yeah-"

Sam sighed and tried to block out the lewd noises that started to pick up, like fuck, seriously, he'd seen Dean kiss girls before but it's like they were trying to suck on each others' tongues or something. When Dean slipped his hand under Castiel's shirt, Sam stood up and walked to the door.

"You know what? You guys can have this room, I'll just be- yeah," he rambled and slammed the door shut.

Castiel was pressed against the table top; he gasped when Dean pulled off him. They breathed heavily for a few moments, neither moving. The theory was that the spell had hit Dean and Castiel had caught it from him when Dean kissed him. Honestly, it isn't the worst that could have happened. It was harmless, (nice, even,) and Dean didn't understand how this could be a curse. But Dean was never one to look a gift horse in the mouth, so he pulled Castiel's coat from his shoulders and loosened his tie, figuring it'd be much more comfortable in the bed.

* * *

Castiel's skin felt soft and warm, and it sure felt a lot better waking up to someone curled against his body rather than waking alone. Dean's heart stuttered in his chest as he ran his fingers through Castiel's dark curls. Fire started somewhere in the pit of his stomach and spread through his chest; he wondered what kind of spell did something like this. Lust seemed easy to target and fabricate, but what he felt right now wasn't lust. It wasn't anywhere close. Dean's hand ran down Castiel's back tentatively and Castiel moved closer, burrowing his face into Dean's chest. Dean feared he would hear his thundering heartbeat.

Castiel blinked his eyes open slowly and smiled sleepily at Dean. He rolled over onto his back and Dean watched each individual curl of his hair fall out of place, not that they ever had a place anyways. Dean didn't want to talk about it, so he leaned over and placed a chaste kiss to Castiel's collarbone. Castiel hummed in content and looked over at Dean before pushing him over and claiming his lips once more. It seemed like an act neither of them would get tired of.

So-called-curse forgotten, hands moved where they pleased, eyes gazed how they wanted, and oh did they _want_. Desire boiled underneath their skin. It wasn't as desperate as before. They had each other in their arms, knowing that they would not be going anywhere soon, they took what they needed from each other: comfort, love, yearning, everything that they'd been deprived of before.

Of the many nights Dean had spent in the company of others, never had it felt like this. It had always been quick, mutual pleasure. It was numbing, like alchohol, something to make him forget the sins he'd committed. But here, with Castiel, he did not forget. He didn't forget these sins, but instead it was made _right_. Like, yeah, he fucked up in the past, he knows that, but none of that matters because- Castiel- _right there_, hands in his hair, lips on his jaw, didn't care, or even more, loved him for whoever he was, faults and all.

Love, not lust, it was something that penetrated his mind and shocked him awake. Dean pulled the covers off and padded to the fridge to get a beer. It's eight PM somewhere in the world. After two sips (or what Dean calls a sip,) he sets the bottle down and stares at the countertop. What kind of curse was this even? If it could even be called a curse?

"Dean?" he heard Castiel call from the bed, voice so fucking innocent he could have been fooled to believe Castiel hadn't once attempted the mass genocide of his own species. "Come back to bed."

_Fuck it all,_ Dean thought. He was going to do what he wanted for once without thinking too much, and right now, what he wanted was Cas. So he joined Castiel in the bed again, feeling his lips lift into a smile.

* * *

"How about this? You lift the curse or I shoot you in the heart."

The witch grit her teeth, frustration firing through her, she wished to curse the wards that forbade her magic.

"They're all already gone! What's the point?" she threw her hands up.

"The spell on my brother!" Sam shouted. He'd decided to go after the witch alone when he found where she'd gone, and didn't want to interrupt whatever Dean and Cas were probably doing in the other room. He tightened his grip on the gun, surprised when he heard the witch laugh loudly.

"Spell? That spell lasted hardly ten minutes!"

Confusion washed over Sam like a sheet of rain. "What?"

"To put in simple terms," she said slowly as if Sam wouldn't understand her otherwise. "All the spell did was make your brother kiss the closest individual in proximity, which happened to be the guy in the dirty trenchcoat. I needed some kind of distraction to get away."

* * *

_A/N again: This was based loosely on the tumblr post by herofangirl: "I want a witch to put a love curse on Dean and Cas and they spend the whole time acting like a couple and three days later they find her and when Sam demands for her to lift the curse she says 'The curse only lasts for 24 hours.' I hope you liked it! Please review if you'd like c:_


End file.
